


Das Perfekte

by The_7_Reader_of_Kaldrags



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:20:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26828746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_7_Reader_of_Kaldrags/pseuds/The_7_Reader_of_Kaldrags
Summary: Years after their summer in Oregon, Dipper and Mabel Pines return more tired and older than ever: with bodyly pains, more gray hair, and a nice job as time cops. Their mission?: make sure the Nazis carry out their occupation of Poland. Their only obstacle?: a very nosy '39 German girl. Investigate this character's mind to discover who she really is, or if she is just a pretty, hollow face.





	Das Perfekte

**Author's Note:**

> Note: the story has strong influences and strong references based on two works from the world of video games: the cult game, Rule of Rose, and Bloodborne, by Hidetaka Miyazaki. A big thank you to Hellman Draws too! from Tumblr for authorizing me to base me on one of his ideas (Link to his blog below this summary).
> 
> https://hellmandraws.tumblr.com/

[The Green Leaves of Summer-Nick Perito](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1CYq1_e1fi8&ab_channel=bisindie54)

(open new Link for the song)

Fall Weiss (the occupation to Poland has succeed)

They did it. If you consider what had to happen, and what they did to it, it was a success. The two of them were listening to the German radio, and they found out by that method that everything went as it should have, as it always did. They didn’t like it, but the invasion and consequently all the events that happened to the Poles were –are- necessary. The events that happened had to be fulfilled. Time is a gigantic tangle; so much so that it is extremely easy to cut it that can change everything we know. Hitler could have won the World War Two if he had not betrayed the Soviet Union. The second amendment could never have been implemented. Hugo Chávez could not have died of cancer, Clinton could not have had sex with Lewinsky, Guy Fawkes could have killed James I, or Sergio III could never have obtained the papacy. And the mission that those two, who are going to be our esteemed protagonists, is to prevent what never was, becomes the truth in the history books.

The two were listening on the radio about the surrender of the Poles. They were in a cafe, listening to the happiness of the Germans. They listened to those sounds with disgust. They tried to ignore as much as possible all the swastikas that are found absolutely everywhere. They tried to act natural, to go unnoticed in their attitude. They couldn't show the slightest bit of disgust or rejection. If they showed even a tiny detail that could elucidate nonconformity, the Gestapo arrives in what it takes the crowing of a rooster. Everything imperfect must be eradicated. What is out of the norm must be what a cockroach is to a shoe: a simple target to smash. It didn't take a genius to notice that simple truth. The man saw a group of boys leaving the school, while they repeated without stopping the same chant that they studied and memorized with so much care: “My _Fürher_! I know you well and I love you like my mother and father. I will always obey you as I do with my father and mother. And when I grow up, I will help you as I help my father and mother, and you will be satisfied with me.” All the children walked perfectly upright. The woman knew by a glance that these children were healthy. They were running at a good speed. All were thin but she knew that in the future they’ll grow up to be men of broad shoulders and perfect factions, exactly as the _fürher_ wanted. The woman turned to the man with eyes blank to seeing so many glorifications. The man quickly knocked him under the table. He whispered after taking a quick look left and right: “You're lucky no one has seen you, Mabel. Do you want to be on those gallows we saw at the square two streets behind?” The appointee got a bit sulky, and tried to reply. “Oh c’mon: if something goes wrong, we can always run away with…” “Distrust that, would you? Be discreet. Besides, I don't think you want to mess up our almost pristine record.” Says the man, looking around suspiciously at everywhere he could. He sips his cup of coffee slyly. Mabel has never left her way of being: clumsy, meek. But at least she settled down... a bit but she did. The man allows himself to smile at that idea when he ended thinking about it: the idea of using the time meter as an escape method is attractive, if stupid. The Time Baby is a pretty fussy boss in every way. A mistake would not be easily forgiven. There have been cases where the baby decided to forgive the failures although not without some punishment (anything was better than being locked up for the rest of your life in the prison of time).

Dipper remembered for a few moments his summer in 2012: twelve years old, seeing on two different occasions what for them were trifles, but for the time they were a disastrous domino effect that meant, among several things, mass hysteria, total confusion, and disasters natural. A bit of everything from the temporary space disaster buffet, indeed. That, and also, that Blendin wouldn't let them write their obituaries in peace for a single day by reminding them of what happened back then. Then the man thought he was exaggerating: it's not like they were going to make some tiny foul in front of these crazy people and suddenly someone pulled out a gun and shot them a good head shot, right?... right?

“Then we don't have much else to do. Shall we go?” Mabel nodded to finally leave. Dipper conceded that by having his back numb in a very uncomfortable chair, and they left a few coins to finally leave, not only from the cafe, but also from that year, from that city. It is better that they escape from Berlin since they have a lot of time for that: in five years, six months and ten days, the Soviets are going to knock on their door and pay a little visit. Or shorter: two thousand seventy-seven days. It seems like a long time, but when it comes to people like them with their jobs, time was as short and insignificant as the flapping of a hummingbird. “Good: we will no longer have to be surrounded by those fanatics.” Dipper replied when he saw all the messianic propaganda on the streets. He put his hands in his pockets and walked out with his sister. They were very close to each other and whispered so they wouldn't be overheard. “So you know what's going to happen when we get home, right, Dip-dop?” Oh, of course he knew: the damn paperwork, and a movie night. It's Movie Friday's.

“Please don't one of _stop motion_ , will you? The paperwork alone is enough punishment to add another to the list.” “You are almost sixty years old, do you ever think to grow up, my dear sister?” “Nope, never.” They both laughed in that German sun. Those Nazis might be nuts, but they had good eyesight and class: Berlin was very pretty, except for the excess of red that melted the eyes like flames. Dipper eyes turn again and continued talking to her sister: “How about _Ladri di biciclette_?”“I don’t want to know anything about wars, thank you very much.” “ _The Shining_?” “I hate that movie with all my soul.” “ _Sal_ _ò_?” The man quickly turned his head and looked at Mabel with a look that said with fear: “do you want my guts to wallow for three weeks?” “… How about _Airplane!_?” Mason looked at her sternly, with an equally serious voice he said: “Good idea.” Mabel smiled victoriously at that decision: comedy, how did she not think about it before?

They were both engrossed. So much so that they didn't even notice the girl behind them. She followed them, but not with malicious intentions. She noticed them since they were in the cafe: she knew they were just like her just by looking at them. She continued her walk. Dressed as aesthetics demanded: white shirt with short sleeves and black skirt below the knee and patent leather shoes. She was wearing a purple crochet shawl over her from the cold. Around seventeen, she was already beginning to show the signs of a beautiful woman: a beautiful face without visible imperfections, beautiful gray eyes, and a shining blonde hair. Those lips were fine as porcelain. She wasn't wearing makeup. She was amazed by bodies that were not like hers: they were not legally full of health: they had an extra belly, they were slightly hunched over. The woman had a way too masculine and inappropriate for a lady to walk, and that seemed beautiful to her. She was also curious about the orange tint of the man's nose. The rest might find such features repugnant, almost Jewish, at best?... no... they must be sympathizers of England. If not, they would have kicked them out of the cafe. But they were... broken. Imperfect. That was those two. And they didn't mind looking and acting like that. They were…

“Fine. Do your magic.” Dipper crossed his arms with a pleased smile when he saw that his sister was already preparing to leave. They took refuge in the most gloomy and secluded alley they could find. “Let's turn it on, buddy.” The man cocked his head. His smile faded briefly when he saw the girl. His eyes widened like two billiard balls. She was looking at them with a neutral and completely hollow expression: she was looking at them, yes, but with eyes full of wonder. The two of them locked eyes in a second, in the same second in which Mabel dropped the tape without realizing it. She was too close. From the tape came a blue bubble of energy that surrounded the three of them, expanding in a few moments to a dome of considerable size. At the same speed that the bubble grew, it also shrunk. First it was the size of a grape, then that of a seed, little by little to the size of an insignificant ant, until there was no trace of that energy. Like that energy, the three of them disappeared without leaving a trace of their presence.


End file.
